


Don’t Lose Your Marbles

by calliopes_pen



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Drabble, Fluff and Humor, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-06
Updated: 2010-03-06
Packaged: 2018-12-04 06:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11549664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calliopes_pen/pseuds/calliopes_pen
Summary: The Doctor’s lost his precious Gallifreyan Marbles.  Will he find them again?





	Don’t Lose Your Marbles

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Help Haiti Auction. The prompt was “platonic Doctor and Donna, misplacing something. Preferably a bit of fluff."

Donna was doing her morning jogging (hey, she had to stay in shape _somehow_ , and the TARDIS was big enough for it) when she heard it. A certain Time Lord was wailing in dismay, as he crawled across the library floor and looked in every crevice and hole.

“I’ve lost my marbles,” the Doctor moaned again. Now he was dashing off to the console room, with Donna close at his heels. Once there, he immediately dropped to all fours, and peered beneath the console.

It would be too easy to tell him that he’d never had them in the first place, and she restrained herself by a hair. She only just managed to keep from laughing as she leaned against the wall and asked, “Where does a Time Lord keep them? Where did you see them last?” As he stepped back to peer behind a piece of coral further up the wall, she added, “They couldn’t _fly away_ , could they?” You never knew with him. Maybe the marbles had wings. Maybe the marbles were sentient...and wanted to roll across the floor at just the wrong second, sending you crashing to your knees. When all you really wanted was your morning piece of toast from the kitchen.

She shook her head, realizing even her thoughts were beginning to babble like the Doctor.

The Doctor gave her a look, appreciating the fact that she wasn’t mocking him. At least, not yet. “These were special Gallifreyan Marbles. Found them shortly before the Time War, in my eighth life. They could levitate if they were under duress, create complex equations out of the smallest of numbers…and play a mean game of croquet. And I’ve _lost_ them.”

No wonder they were special to him, she mused. “And just where did you see them last, Spaceman?” Maybe if she prompted him, that gigantic brain of his would somersault towards the right answer.

He frowned, ruffling his hair with one hand, to help himself think. “Ooh…good question. It was either the left pocket of this coat, the cloister room, or…the swimming pool. For a while there, I liked to tie them together to form a net to catch the piranha before they tried to eat me again…but that’s neither here nor there, but somewhere in the middle, isn’t it?”

Piranha in the pool? She made a mental note to ask about that later. She felt the TARDIS chuckle in her head and frowned, and wondered if _she_ hadn’t hidden them, just to mess with the Time Lord—or if she was just amused by the antics of her people.

“Check your pockets before you risk our lives in the pool.” She watched as he stuffed one arm deep into the depths of his left pocket, frowning all the time he searched. When he sighed in disappointment, she knew it wasn’t there.

The TARDIS rumbled again, and she shook her head. “Do _you_ know where it is, Old Girl?”

The Doctor chuckled and rocked back on his heels before he reached over to stroke the coral. “Oh, _thank_ you. I’m a stupid old man, as always, aren’t I? You’re a very _clever_ girl, yes, you _are_.”

He was talking to the TARDIS like Nerys talked to her cat. Again. It never ceased to amuse her. “What did she say?”

“It’s in the right pocket. Not in _this_ coat, mind you. They somehow migrated to the leather coat of my last life. They _were_ in my sixth self’s coat, but even a Gallifreyan Marble sees the error in that fashion choice.” He frowned as another thought made itself known. “So they moved...or maybe the Master played with them for a while and didn’t put them back where he left them.” When the TARDIS chimed mournfully, he suspected it was that.

“We’re lucky he didn’t just throw it out into the vortex for us to crash into. A tiny crash. A rather insignificant one that wouldn’t send us toppling over to meet the floor, but still a crash.”

Donna shook her head, ignoring the tangent. After laying her hand on his arm to get his attention, she motioned for him to go and find the things, before he forgot and took them on an adventure instead. As he dashed away, she moved to follow.

When the Time Lord finally located his marbles, Donna knew it from the odd squeal of joy that coming from him. The ensuing hug that lifted her off her feet was more than welcome.

Donna smiled as she rubbed his back after he put her down—while he gradually calmed down, she would be heading for the back, where the clothes of his sixth life resided. She wanted to see just how horrible the taste of his past lives _was_. Worse than some choice things from the eighties, perhaps? Worse than leg warmers and shoulder pads?

She would soon find out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Persiflage_1 for beta reading.


End file.
